


We're Made To Love, (But) You're Dangerous.

by nightmaresinwintah



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fingering, Harry watches, M/M, Teasing, Well - Freeform, handjobs, i don't know what this is, it is what it is, louis wears a lot of lingerie, prompt, there's feelings because what else would there be, there's sex in the end, there's so much teasing i cry, this was written pretty fast but yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmaresinwintah/pseuds/nightmaresinwintah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Louis knows when his perv neighbour Harry is watching his through the window and he dresses up pretty nice for him.</p><p>(Title from Dangerous by The Neighbourhood feat YG)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Made To Love, (But) You're Dangerous.

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt and summary are completely created by itsgaytiss on tumblr, so kudos to them. I asked for permission to use the prompt and got it, so here we are :) thank you so much to tumblr user itsgaytiss! And also your manips are ace oh my gosh they're amazing you're so talented.)

Now, when Louis moved into his new apartment it was because he knew that there was an amazing amount of privacy - the apartment across from his was the only place you could see into his windows, and no one had lived in that apartment for years. Louis was very happily used to being able to walk around his flat in all sorts of garments (or lack of) without worrying who would see - because there was no one who could see.

So when someone did eventually move into the apartment across from his, it sort of made him a bit miffed. Louis never closed his curtains - and now he had to either start closing them, or be mindful of what he was doing in his apartment (in his own private time!) lest his new neighbour see. And, well. Louis hated change.

He tried at first, of course. It’s not like he wanted what happened to happen.

After a week of his neighbour moving in, Louis had been pretty good at either closing the curtains or chucking on some appropriate closes to wear around the apartment. The windows the neighbour could see in were the lounge and kitchen windows, and of course the small balcony that was there. Eventually, Louis woke up on the eight morning of his neighbour living across from him and completely forgot about them.

He hadn’t seen his neighbour much, not really. But he knew his neighbour had seen him. He kept catching glimpses of the neighbour out of the corner of his eye, looking in Louis’ windows, or when he was doing the dishes and looked out the window and found the man sitting on his couch and looking in through Louis’ windows. When he realised he’d been caught, his cheeks flamed red and he looked away, getting up and walking out of sight.

On the eighth morning, Louis had had a night out with Niall and Liam, coming home drunk and crashing into bed. When he’s hungover, Louis isn’t the type of person who cares what he looks like, let alone when he’s in his own home.

So, he wakes up and gets up to grab a glass of water. He’s wearing nothing but his pants and he’s sure he looks like shit, but there’s no one here to see. He walks out into the lounge, rubbing his eyes and holding his forehead as he makes his way to the kitchen. He drinks a glass of water quickly, grabbing some ibuprofen to down as well, before he walks back into the lounge to wrap himself up in a blanket on the couch and watch a movie or something.

That’s when he remembers.

He frowns and looks up, across at his neighbor's windows. And, sure enough, he’s standing in the lounge, paused like he was going to do something, and staring straight at Louis. Louis raises an eyebrow and the man blushes and ducks his head, hurrying out of sight. Louis doesn’t feel anything other than amusement.

It becomes sort of a thing after that.

Louis forgets (at first) that he has a neighbour, and remembers soon after he’s done either something embarrassing or, judging by his neighbour’s expressions and reactions, hot. He walks around in his pants, he dances to a song on the radio, he has a friend over and they get utterly pissed (honestly, who knows the extent of what his neighbour’s seen) or, on one particularly hung over morning, he walks to the kitchen and back naked.

Louis’ doesn’t really have a problem with it. His neighbour is...Incredibly hot. Louis’ seen things too, like when he gets up at five in the morning to take a piss and he finds his neighbour doing yoga in front of the window. Louis may have stood and stared for a bit. No one needs to know. But, anyway. After three weeks of accidental (or not) perving, Louis has decided to make it a game.

And that’s where he is now. In the lounge. On the couch, looking at the TV that’s playing a movie. Waiting for his neighbour to go into his lounge and look out the window like he’s bound to do.

And Louis.

Well.

Louis is dressed in perfectly fitting black, lace lingerie. He has a lot of it, actually, but the set that he’s got on now is his favourite. It’s tiny, barely covering his bum, with straps down the sides of his thighs attaching to a pair of lace black stockings that begin just under his bum. The front of the underwear is see-through lace, and very tight, showing off his bulge. The sides of the underwear ride high on his hips, accentuating his curves. His top is bare, he was never one for bras. He looks hot, he knows, and he simply cannot wait to see his neighbour’s reaction.   

He’s only been waiting five minutes, and he doesn’t have to wait much longer. His neighbour walks out into his lounge with a mug lifted to his lips. He hasn’t looked at the window yet. Louis stands up and smirks, wrapping a blanket around him. He walks over to the sliding doors that open to the balcony and opens them, and he watches his neighbour out of the corner of his eyes.

His neighbour looks up just as he’s taking a sip, and Louis drops the blanket and steps out onto the balcony under the pretense of going for a smoke. His pack and lighter is on the small table out there.

His neighbour spits out his mouthful of tea or coffee, his eyes going massive and his jaw dropping. He doesn’t know Louis’ discreetly watching him. Louis stays standing, grabbing a smoke and lighting it. He closes his eyes and turns his face directly to where he knows his neighbour is standing. He takes a long drag, hollowing his cheeks unnecessarily.

He turns around, and bends the fuck over, picking up the ashtray that he’d conveniently placed on the ground before. When he turns around and peeks at his neighbour through his eyelashes, he finds that the man is still standing there, slack-jawed. His mug is gone and his hands are limp at his sides.

Louis refrains from bursting out laughing, and instead goes to one side of his balcony, bending over and bending one knee slightly, resting his elbows on the rail and cocking his hip. He continues smoking, not looking at his neighbour. He knows he’s still there. He looks down at the alleyway that separates their two buildings and grins to himself. He places the cigarette between his lips and straightens his arms, gripping the railing with his hands and stretches, arching his back and pushing his bum into the air, his legs straight.

To add effect, he rolls his head back a little, his eyes closed. When he straightens up and takes the cigarette in between his fingers, blowing out a cloud of smoke, he turns around and looks straight at his neighbour.

The man’s jaw is even lower, if that’s possible. He’s also in joggers, and Louis can very clearly see his hard on. Louis raises an eyebrow, covering his mouth with one hand and widening his eyes in a poor act of this all being an accident, and the man snaps out of it, shutting his mouth and going an alarming shade of red before turning and walking out of the lounge.

Louis cackles to himself and puts his cigarette out in the ashtray, going back inside and sitting on the couch. He kicks his legs up on the coffee tables and stays there, grinning to himself.

Game on.

*

Harry’s on his back on his bed, hand around his dick and an arm thrown over his face as he bites into his bicep, face screwed up in pleasure as he comes, hips bucking up and come shooting all over his toned stomach. He groans as he comes down, resting into the blankets and moving his arm to cover his eyes and he frowns at himself, chagrined.

Okay, so he’d known his neighbour was hot from the very start, ever since he saw him through the window first - dressed in leggings and a loose, massive t-shirt. The first time he got hard over him was when he saw him in his pants after a week of living here. The first time he had to take a cold shower to get rid it was when he first saw him naked. And now? The guy was wearing fucking _lingerie._ What was he supposed to do?

He feels horrible. He doesn’t even know the man’s name.

He plays the scene over in his head again, unable to help it. It was possibly the hottest thing he’s ever seen - he _bent over the railing honestly what the fuck._ Harry groaned again, sitting up and going into his ensuite to have a shower and think about his life choices.

*

The second time it happens, Louis is pretty sure his neighbour hasn’t caught on. It’s only two days after, and that morning Louis walked out into his lounge only to look across at the other apartment (habit, now) to find his neighbour doing yoga in front of the TV. In nothing but pants. In the downward dog pose. If it got Louis a little hard, who cares? It’s what he did about is what matters.

He showered, and went and put on his next favourite lingerie. This set had stockings that were black lace like the last pair, but they came up to just above his knees. They had straps, too, at the back of his thighs and at the front. The straps were hot red, and hooked onto a pair of underwear that was red and black. There was a thin strap in between his bum cheeks, that flared out into lace across the very top of his bum and around his hips, before dipping down into black piece of lace that barely covered his dick, and wasn’t see through - it had dark red cotton underneath the black lace.

When he walked back out into the lounge, he found that his neighbour wasn’t there anymore, but no matter. He put some music on and simply started swaying his hips to the music while he pretended to text on his phone. He had his back facing the window, and when he spun around, throwing his hip to one side and moving his top half to the beat (he actually enjoyed this, he almost forgot what he was doing this for) he found his neighbour frozen in the lounge.

Louis made his eyes flicker over the man, and he frowned at his phone before sighing and moving over to the couch, bending over and keeping his legs straight as he put his phone down. He then turned around and closed his eyes, continuing to dance. When he opened his eyes, he found his neighbour still standing there, a little tortured frown on his face, his eyes a little pleading.

Louis pretended to be surprised, moving his hands down to try and cover himself, and the man seemed to choke a little before closing his eyes and walking away.

Louis was having a lot of fun.

*

The _third_ time Louis plans to do it, he’s in white lingerie that’s very similar to the first pair he had on, and he’s been waiting in his lounge for about half an hour. He’s on his couch, watching music videos and glancing at his neighbours lounge every now and then. After another ten minutes, he gets bored, and his hands end up traveling down his body, fingers nudging under the elastic on the underwear, and he strokes his hand along his dick. His other hand moves back up his body and he teases a nipple, twisting it while he moves his underwear down and starts jerking himself off, spitting in his hand at one point to make the slide nicer. He arches his hips off the couch as he starts moving his hand faster, throwing his head back and letting out little huffs as he twists his nipple.

When he knows he’s close, he lets out a little moan and looks over at his neighbours, and, _fuck._ He’s standing there, jaw slack and his eyes a little wide, and _oh holy shit._ He’s got a hand palming his dick through his jeans, and he’s undone his button. Their eyes slide together and meet, and his neighbour gasps, and Louis’ eyes roll into the back of his head as he goes white hot and comes, groaning and bucking his hips up into his fist, coming all over himself.

He’s panting as he comes down, rolling his head to look at his neighbour, who is nowhere in sight. Louis groans and shuts his eyes. That was not meant to happen, but Louis just hopes his neighbour his somewhere in his apartment jerking off. 

*

Three days later, Louis’ barely seen anything of his neighbour, and wonders if he’s moved out. Louis sighs and figures he probably pushed it too far. He cares a little bit. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and decides today’s the day he should try out his new dildo he brought himself for his birthday last month. He hasn’t had either time or hasn’t been in the mood, but today he grabs his watermelon flavoured lube (Niall picked it out for him) and the dildo and a towel and sets it out on the couch.

He opens himself slowly, teasing himself and getting four fingers in, grazing his prostate every now and then and bucking his hips up, moaning and throwing his head back. He takes his fingers out, whining at himself and fumbling for the dildo. He slowly pushes it in, huffing a little, no matter the preparation he did. Then he flicks it to the first vibration setting and lets out a moan, squeezing his eyes shut.

He flicks it up to the next setting after fucking himself slowly for a little while, and whines, raking his nails down his side and sobbing a little as the tip of the dildo presses against his prostate. He’s panting, moving his hips up and down and his shoulder hurts from where he’s holding the dildo inside him and he’s sweating.

When he turns the dildo to the last level, he almost screams, pressing his hips down hard into the couch and rolling his hips, his dick begging to be touched. He fucks himself down onto the dildo for a little while longer, grunting as the didlo nudges his prostate each time. Then he lets his free hand wrap around his dick and and gasps, whimpering and thumbing over the head.

That’s when he looks over to his neighbour’s apartment and sees him. His neighbour is staring at him in disbelief, but he’s not just standing and _watching,_ no. He’s got his pants and trousers around his ankles and he’s got his hand around his pretty dick and he looks so, so responsive to his own touches as he jerks himself fast, face showing no remorse for doing this. Louis throws his head back with a gasp and tugs at his dick. He’s so, so fucking close and this is so hot. It should be creepy but it’s so fucking hot. He manages to look at Harry again and he’s on the floor, watching Louis still and fucking his hips up, jerking himself off and opening his lips in a little gasp as Louis blinks at him and smirks before he sees white and comes, the dildo pressing right up against his prostate.

When he comes to and looks over at his neighbour, the man is staring right back at him, come covering his belly and a blissed-out look on his face. Louis smiles at him before slipping the dildo out and sitting up, wincing as he rolls onto his bum. He cleans himself up with the towel and then heads to the shower, throwing a wink at his neighbour, who had lifted his head up to watch him and now drops it back down onto the floor and throws his arms over his face.

Louis laughs.

*

Louis decides this isn’t healthy. So he goes outside, dressing in his comfiest black leggings and an oversized black hoodie. He’s slipped on blue vans and is heading to a cafe for a coffee or _something,_ anything other than thinking about his neighbour. He’s still wearing his favourite black lace underwear though.

He sits down at a booth after ordering a strong cappuccino, and sighs, resting his head back and closing his eyes. The bell at the cafe door chimes and he cracks open one eye, looking at. Well. His neighbour. Fuck sake. He watches him as he orders something and laughs, chatting with the barista like he knows him. Maybe he does. After a while, his neighbour turns around and scans the cafe, looking for a place to sit and, fuck. His eyes land on Louis. And he goes red.

Louis offers a weak smile, and sinks lower on his seat, sighing.

His neighbour sits across from him, of course, and clears his throat awkwardly. Louis frowns at him, and raises an eyebrow. The man and him sit in silence for a while, then the coffee arrives and the barista sets them both down and then pauses, looking in between them. He must feel the tension and awkwardness because he just kind of nods to himself before walking away. His neighbour reaches for one of the coffees at the same time as Louis and their hands bump.

“Oops.” His neighbour stammers.

“Hi.” Louis blurts out.

They fall silent again, before taking their respective coffees and sipping at them.

“I’m Harry.” His neighbour eventually mumbles.

“Louis.” Louis replies, and looking up at the ceiling and wondering what the chances would be of it falling and killing him right now.

The silence lasts longer this time. “Um, I know, that, like, our situation is really, um, weird, but, like…” Harry trails off, and sighs, finishing his coffee and then sitting silently again.

“But?” Louis presses, finishing his own coffee.

Harry bites into his lip and he looks really hot. “Could we, like, I don’t know, not have this be really really odd or something?”

Louis doesn’t expect this. He doesn’t know what to say. “I’m wearing your favourite lingerie right now.” Is what he murmurs, leaning forward over the table.

Harry sucks in a breath and goes red. “Oh.” He breathes out.

“And I really want you to peel them off me and then see where that takes us. If that’s alright.”

Harry squeaks.

*

They end up back at Louis’ apartment, already kissing at the door, Harry’s hands all over Louis. His waist, his shoulders, his bum, his thighs. Louis feels like he’s burning. He doesn’t know how this happened but it feels good. It feels _right._ Harry peels his clothes off while they’re in the lounge, and stares at him in his underwear, eyes dark.

“I’m going to fuck you.” He says.

Louis just kind of nods and leads him to the bedroom, where his lube and condoms are.

Harry opens him up almost and slowly as Louis did himself, long fingers making Louis choke on his breath and the hard press of Harry’s hand on his hips holding him down making him feel weak and cared for. When Harry’s eventually, finally inside him, they move together like they’ve done this a million times before, and the finish together, crying out and falling into each other.

*

("You were doing it on  _purpose!?_ As in you  _knew_ I was watching?" "Yeah, um, oops?" "Oh my gosh. That's so emba rrassing." "Sorry?" "Don't be, it was  _hot,_ Lou." "Oh. Well, in that case." "What are you - oh.  _Oh._ Oh  _fuck, Louis!"_ )

*

Things don’t go back to where they were before. They get to know each other. Louis still puts on shows, but Harry moves in and they shut the curtains when someone moves into the apartment Harry lived in. They learn each other, souls and bodies. The first time Louis tells Harry he loves him is when he gets the words _‘I love you’_ embroidered on the arse of his favourite lace underwear and waits till Harry comes home from work, bent over on the lounge floor with his arse in the air. Harry rides him and tells him he loves him about a million times.

They spend a lot of time at the coffee shop, Liam gets a job there and it turns out the barista who served them that first day was Harry’s friend, Zayn. Liam and Zayn get together pretty quickly. Niall walks in on the couple’s far too often, and resolves to get a girlfriend and give them a taste of their own medicine.

When Harry and Louis get married, it’s a small ceremony full of friends and family and their kiss lasts a little too long. So does their honeymoon. It includes a lot of lingerie and a lot of watching and a lot of teasing.

  
It’s good.


End file.
